Fenton

As I have pointed out in some other posts, Fenton is the elderly Irish wolfhound who is managing to keep going despite a severely arthritic back and hind end.  He has surprised me with his determination to keep getting up and showing he can walk even if it is wobbling and  uncoordinated.  I was relaxing into the belief that we were on a good roll with the old fellow.  Last Saturday, I was shown how quickly that can change. 

Fenton having a good day. He loved the snow and enjoyed a long afternoon here sitting in the sun and watching the ranch going's on. 

That day Fenton had a more difficult time on his short walk than he ever has before, falling numerous times and even needing my assistance to get his rear up again.  He was his usual determined self and just kept on until he got back to his favorite place on the back porch.  He seemed okay in general from his falls but by that evening, he was more sedentary than I’d seen him before.  I did a bit of massage on his shoulders and hips in the hopes that some increased blood flow might help.  I so hoped he was just needing a rest and would recuperate.  

By the next morning on Sunday, I knew he was in a rough patch. He was not inclined to get up or even shift on his dog bed throughout the day and into evening on Sunday. I was definitely worried.  To see him in such a state as to not even be able to move his hind end after he had been doing so well was upsetting to say the least.  In a short time, I have grown really fond of this old warrior.  He has the character of a dignified and kind grandfather who is a bit too proud to have people see him struggle or ask for help.  The only time before this where he actually wanted my help was a comical instance where he decided to go to the nearby creek via a rather steep downgrade to the edge and ended up falling into the creek.  

I was right there only steps away but his rear end slid into the creek and as he hit the cold water he let out this irritated garrumph, clearly disgusted with himself.  He looked right at me with his wise old eyes that said, ‘well, what are you waiting for; get over here and help me up.’  He and I worked together to get his legs under him and up the hill he went with almost a rejuvenated air from his dip.  I don't know if I mentioned but Fenton weighs about 135 pounds. 

On Sunday, he didn’t want help and he seemed to have decided he wasn’t going to try to move much at all.  Needless to say, it brought tears to my eyes seeing him like that.  When you have a giant breed of dog who begins to be immobile, it is obviously a more difficult proposition in how much can be done for him.  Doc Howard was once again readily accessible to me through the day and gave me instructions on upping meds during this acute phase.  Doc is getting on in years and has trouble getting around himself but I can’t help but be a little shocked that, no matter the day, night or weekend, I have never once had a problem reaching him.  Pam and I were also in communication via text or phone as well. 

By late evening Fenton had not moved at all.  As I mentioned, he has some pride about not being seen to struggle.  While I was in the shower, he moved himself off the porch, down two steps and out into the yard.  That gave me a bit of relief to see him get up but laying on the cold ground probably wasn’t going to help the arthritis.  I went to bed finally but throughout the night was up and checking on him every couple of hours.  He stayed in his spot in the yard most of the night. 

I woke in the morning and immediately went to see how he was and found he had moved from one side of the yard to the other sometime after 3:30 a.m.  I was feeling more relieved at that and gave him a morning scratch and shoulder rubs which he enjoys.  He was lying in the morning sun and seemed to be more relaxed that morning.  I still wanted to see him walk but was in contact with the vet that morning about his assistants bringing the portable laser machine to us for a treatment to address what was at least partly an inflammation issue.  I was having my morning coffee and dealing with a few household chores while I waited for the vet techs to show up.  During one of my morning checks on Fenton, I came out to the front porch to find him walking around in a fairly steady fashion and felt palpable relief.  I sent Pam a text immediately with some good news.  I knew this was so hard for her being away from him.  When the vet techs pulled into the driveway, Fenton came over and greeted them eagerly as they parked their truck.  He likes them and while he hates being messed with he seems to instinctively understand they are working to help him.  Quite the smart boy. 

He was his usual patient self and stood for most of the treatment.  The girls left and he walked around a bit more before finally coming up onto the porch and settling down again for a rest from his morning exertions.  Doc had instructed me to give him another dose of pain killer that morning which does end up making him kind of lethargic and sleepy so it wasn’t concerning me.  I had seen him walk and move after a worrisome 24 hours and I looked to the rest of my day with a more positive feeling.  

The following days, though, proved my optimism was premature.